Of Dreams and White Dresses
by TinkerLJ
Summary: Early F/LJ. Being a Joe is not easy, especially when it means having to put your dreams on hold. I guess it's a good thing dreams can find their own ways of being persistent.


_In the midst of doing a rewrite on my first Joe story, Mission:Japan, this little one popped into my head. It's just a one-shot that wouldn't leave me alone. I must admit, I have been hesitant to post this, not sure how it would be received…_

 _Happy Summer!_

 _Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to anything GI Joe, sadly._

* * *

She had meant to walk on by, to continue along on her merry little way enjoying a rare afternoon of quiet solitude, but something about the dress drew her attention and she had to stop. It was a white dress, on display in the window of the small dressmaker's shop. Before she was even aware of what she was doing, Lady Jaye found herself pushing the door open, the golden bells on the door tinkling merrily to announce her entrance.

The dressmaker, a small woman with snowy white hair and deep set wrinkles, looked up from the skirt she was darning and greeted her with a welcoming smile.

"Good afternoon. How may I help you?" her voice, quavering with age, was surprisingly pleasant and warm.

Lady Jaye blushed slightly, and her words suddenly stuck in her throat. She was beginning to have second thoughts about entering.

"Is there a particular dress I could show you, dear?," the tiny dressmaker rose to her feet and swept her hand around the small establishment, indicating the various dresses on display, "Something you wanted to see?"

"I uh…," Lady Jaye blushed deeper.

As the old woman quietly observed the young woman, her lips curved into a knowing smile. She didn't have to ask which dress had caught her attention. The young woman's bright eyes were already speaking volumes in answer. This was a young woman with visions of the future, like so many who had come before and, she knew with certainty, like so many who would come after.

 _Ahhh, to be young and in love_ , she smiled wistfully. Such is the way of the youth.

There had been a time in her own life when she, like this bright eyed woman standing before her, had been bursting with dreams of the future. But, she was old now, and her dreaming was done. She had moved past the time of dreams to the place where age alone separates the living from the living and dreams take their final place as precious memories in the deepest places of the heart.

 _Oh, yes_ , the dressmaker was quite familiar with _these_ young women. Starry eyed they'd walk in, dreams of the future written all over their bright, eager faces.

She had shared the joy of her daughter and granddaughters as they walked the same path of dreams, faces radiant and eyes bright with love and hope, down a narrow church aisle, white dress flowing behind in silky waves. Every eye had turned, as they, in their special moment of time, had moved forward with grace and beauty toward their future, step by slow step, following a sweet trail of pale rose petals.

And then, finally, the bride would reach the groom and the two would stand under an arch of sweet smelling flowers, close, but not yet touching, though their hearts would already be intertwined as one. The exchange of rings would come next, and then the tender and love-filled kiss, sealing the promise to become one another's best friend, partner, lover, and husband and wife, until death do them part.

Always at that moment, without fail, the joyful tears would begin washing down her old face as she dabbed at them helplessly with her kerchief.

"Just a hopeless old romantic," her husband used to say affectionately as he patted her hand.

Her eyes misted suddenly, thinking of her now, late husband. The pain and emptiness were still fresh and raw. Oh, how she missed him, his presence, the sound of his voice, his touch. But, time had separated them and he had gone on before, to the better place, and for a little while, she was alone. But, she clung stubbornly to hope, believing that she would see him again when it was her turn to sleep that final sleep.

And yet, despite her loss, she could truthfully say that in this waning of her days, she had no complaints, no regrets; her life had been very good. She had lived the happily ever after.

She smiled softly once again, watching this lovely woman with a heart full of bright hopes and dreams, her future still stretched out before her, unwritten, and silently wished her the very best.

"Come," she said simply, inviting the young woman over to the dress displayed in the window.

It was a lovely dress…with plain, but elegant lines, a white dress symbolising purity and promise, white, like a blank canvas…waiting for an image to emerge, brush stroke by colourful brush stroke, a blank canvas to be filled by a young couple with stories yet to be written of their new life together, white for the unmarred promise of a new beginning.

Lady Jaye walked slowly toward the display window, eyes aglow. She reached out and gently fingered the delicate white gown. Her own dreams rushed upon her in a torrent…secret hopes for a future together with the man she had come to love deeply. Her blush deepened even more as her private thoughts turned to her partner and best friend, the keeper of the other half of her heart, the man known to the Joes simply as… Flint.

In a secret place in her heart, hidden away, she dreamt of someday having a normal life, a normal home, with children around her…A handsome dark haired husband to greet with a kiss when he came home, a warm hand to hold, quiet talks in the dark, just the two of them, alone. She smiled softly, running her fingers up and down the smooth silk. The dreams continued to play out in her mind, unhindered, vibrant pictures and deeply emotional…visions of all that _could_ be, would be…if only…

"Would you like to try it on?"

The words cut through her reverie and Lady Jaye simply stared at the dress, sorely tempted. It was a simple question…not a contract or an obligation…not a commitment. She almost said yes, but then she cast a glance toward her naked left hand and she knew she couldn't.

She shook her head regretfully, "No…I can't….not yet…not yet."

She raised soft eyes to gaze wistfully at the dress, once more, the beautiful dream slowly fading.

Perhaps one day, there would be no more fighting Cobra to save the world, no more risking of their lives, just the simplicity of sharing life together, day by day…by lovely day.

Not that she was complaining, no, she would never do that. Her life was good, amazing in fact. She was among the best of the best, the elite of the military and her opinion, there was no better work. The daily ongoing physical and mental challenges suited her perfectly. She could honestly say she loved what she did.

But, there were times when she wanted more.

She and Flint _were_ together, so to speak, but due to the nature of their careers, there was no possible way that any time soon…if ever, they would be…could be …actually married. He had never talked of proposal to her, she didn't even know if he'd ever even thought about it. She had certainly never approached the subject with him.

And, to be honest, they didn't exactly talk about those kinds of things because… well, they couldn't. _Why talk about something you couldn't act on, right?_ There were rules and regulations against them…responsibilities…they were Joes and the team needed them, heck, the world needed them.

 _No…_ The vision dimmed … _It was impossible_ …

She sighed and let the dress slip slowly from her fingers, her shoulders slumped.

"No, not today. Thank you, anyway."

Her thoughts and dreams plummeted, landing in a heap of ruins at her feet. She hadn't even had time to bail out with a parachute.

"Anytime, my dear."

"Good bye, ma'am. Thank you for your time," she picked up her purse and and walked out, not looking back.

She would return to the Pitt, to the life she lived, the life she had chosen, and allow her dreams to flit away once again, out of reach. She lifted her chin resolutely. She would go on, whatever her future held, despite her dreams.

* * *

She found Flint in the Rec Room, reading Yeats, a small stack of Wordsworth and Lord Byron beside him.

"Hi," She flopped down moodily onto the couch beside him.

"Jaye!," he grinned, closing his book with a snap, "I didn't see you come in."

"Well, you _were_ reading," she grumped.

"I was waiting for _you_ ," he corrected, giving her one of his special lopsided grins, "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," she said softly, giving him a small apologetic smile. It wasn't his fault she was in a bad mood. "So, how was your day?"

"Busy as usual," He smiled as he took her hand in his and began drawing small, slow circles on her bare skin. Lady Jaye savoured his touch. When they were in uniform, they both wore gloves.

"Did I miss anything?"

"Duke and Scarlett will be coming back from their mission earlier than expected," he murmured.

"Oh? That's good to hear. They weren't so thrilled to be going in the first place, if I recall correctly."

"No they weren't…," he chuckled lightly, remembering the look on their faces as Hawk assigned the two of them for the mission. He had had to agree with them, though, on this one. Never had he been more glad to get out of a mission.

His fingers continued move along the back of her hand in ever widening circles until they brushed over her unadorned fourth finger.

"Did you eat yet? We could grab something from the mess if you're hungry," his fingers began unconsciously to rub the place where a ring would be.

"No, I'm fine," Lady Jaye sucked in a breath and held it. She tried to catch a glimpse of Flint's face, but his head was bowed. _Dare she hope?_ Of their own accord, the broken dreams rose up from the graveyard at her feet and lifted into the air, hovering uncertainly around her ankles. A tentative, newly born hope took place in her heart.

Perhaps she _was_ being foolish, she admitted to herself, but Love had never been known as a close companion to Wisdom, and Hope was certainly nothing, if not persistent.

"I grabbed something while I was out," she continued, not hearing her own words, lost as she was in her thoughts, "You?"

"I ate."

His fingers had stopped moving. Her heart seemed to have stopped with it, so focused was she on what he was doing. He wrapped his larger hand protectively and possessively around hers and gave a gentle squeeze.

Then, he released her.

Staring at him in silence, she slowly drew her hand back to her lap. She could still feel the tingling warmth from his fingers against her skin, the pressure of his squeeze. She had to resist the urge to press her hand against her cheek. His simple touch had been enough to set her dreams soaring high into the clouds and her heart had taken off with them, soaring on wings of hope and unspoken promises. Her future took on a bright sheen, once again. Suddenly 'someday' didn't seem so impossible after all.

Flint watched her face in growing bewilderment. Her eyes were brightening, a hint of a smile playing on her lips as her thoughts tumbled about in her mind.

"Jaye? You okay? Something the matter?"

"No," she giggled softly, "Nothing the matter at all, Flint."

He looked at her again strangely, through narrowed, disbelieving eyes, and then gave a shrug. _Women_ , he thought wryly. _He'd never understand them._

 _Men,_ she laughed to herself as she stole a glance toward her left hand, _so adorably clueless._

"…you're with Gung Ho," voices could be heard from the hallway outside.

"Awww, do I have to be paired up with Shipwreck?"

"Hey, what's wrong with being paired up with me?"

"You stink at pool, Wreck. We all know that."

"I do not stink! I just missed one teensy, weensy little shot."

The voices were steadily growing louder. Soon, the pounding of boots against the hard cement floor accompanied them. Flint and Lady Jaye shared a small private smile and then slid apart, putting a respectable distance between them on the couch as Ace and several other guys pushed open the door and entered loudly.

"You knocked in the wrong ball, Shipwreck. I lost 50 bucks on that game!"

"Come on…, I told you that wasn't my fault. I got distracted by that hot babe…"

"Hi, guys," Flint and Lady Jaye said together.

"Flint, Lady Jaye," they gave quick nods of greeting before threading their way around various couches, tables and chairs, a large TV, and a shelf of old paperback novels toward the billiards table on the far side of the room. They were still arguing about teams as they went.

Flint turned back to Lady Jaye with a half smile, "So…, how was _your_ day off?," he asked casually.

Lady Jaye leaned back heavily into the couch cushions, her smile radiant, "Just like a dream," she gave a happy sigh.


End file.
